Walk With Me

I know the way that I must go, the rules that I must keep.
But the road is hard, and in some places dark and steep.
Just let me sit and rest awhile, and turn my back away.
But then the road grows longer still; I find that I must say,
“If I had a hand to rest in mine, that yonder hill I might could climb.
The road much easier would be, if I had someone to walk with me.”
And lo, my hand, it reaches out, and many hands in answer shout,
“Just take my hand and trust in me. I’ll lead you there, I’ll stay with thee.”

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Inspiration

Inspiration comes to us when we learn to find
Those quiet sacred moments that ease our troubled mind.
At dawn before the rush begins of another care-worn day,
When we truly try to listen, when we sincerely pray.

We can strive to have a constant prayer linger in our heart
And watch out for those temptations that distract us from truth’s art
And lead us into pathways full of sorrow, pain and sin,
Yet, if we ask in these dark places, inspiration will come in.

As we climb above the ‘rat race’, inspiration helps us grow.
It’s the sacred thread that connects us to our Father’s wondrous soul.
Nature flows with inspiration, as each butterfly flows by,
We can see it in the eve, in the colors of the sky.

In the words of holy prophets, or our Lord Christ’s inspiring life,
As we meditate upon holy scriptures, we climb above all earthly strife,
And more threads entwine together between us and our holy God,
Until the thread becomes a cord and we grasp the iron rod.

Inspiration’s a spiritual muscle; the more we use it, it will grow.
We must each learn how to listen to this music for the soul.
We pray that we may listen more at work, church and play,
So our Lord’s sweet inspiration will grow stronger every day.

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The Photograph

Looking through old photographs
Opens up my memory….
Here I see a baby small,
Now I see you start to crawl.
See the Teddy birthday cake,
And the first real steps you take.
There you are…1st day of school.
Here’s you wading in the pool.
Now you’re dressed like Superman.
Look at you in Disneyland.
Now I see you growing tall.
My little boy is not so small.
Years have come and years have gone–
Happy, sad and growing song.
Where are all the babies now?
Time has taken them somehow.
To see them small; to see them laugh,
I can hold a photograph.

 

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